


Of Rope Burns and Glass

by Torrinidae



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Sex Toys, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:12:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torrinidae/pseuds/Torrinidae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian always looks forward to the end of the day when he can retreat back to the warmth of Bull's bed, but today, Iron Bull gives him a little more then just a promise of what's to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Rope Burns and Glass

The afternoon sun was beginning to drop toward the skyline and battlements of Skyhold, but Dorian barely noticed the change until the sunset hit him with one last beam of light. The Tevinter Altus was battling with his attention span as he attempted to finish the ancient book currently in his hands. He currently had an interesting predicament going on below his book that kept him from the task at hand.

\---

_The Iron Bull returned to the bed with an herbal cream as a tuff of black hair peaked out from under the bed, hiding from the early morning sky. “Show me your wrists,” the Bull commanded, though with a smooth, loving, tone. The only response was a grumble and a tossing of the sheets. The qunari let out a brief chuckle before he reached into the mass of sheets and pulls out a copper-toned wrist. He examined the line of bruises before he started to pull the cork off the bottle._

_“You already applied that horrid-smelling cream last night.” The smaller man finally revealed more of his dark skin to the open air as he sat up, pulling his wrist from The Bull._

_“I know how much you care for your skin, Dorian. Considering your choice of clothing,” Bull smirked, “I thought you would prefer if you didn’t have to explain the marks on your skin while you head out to the Emerald Graves with the Inquisitor.”_

_Dorian stretched, the sheets falling to reveal more bruises, lines running across his chest and down to his pelvis. Rings around his shoulders and elbows, in perfect patterns. “No need to remind me of that maker-forsaken trip this week. I find it utterly pointless that they want to go to a jungle just to mark the landscape; there are mapmakers for that.” Dorian grumbles as he wipes the kohl from the corner of his eye, looking toward his grey-skinned partner. “Besides… I look good in rope, and I happen to think I also look good in rope burns, too,” Dorian grinned. He prefers to be discrete about details, but he loves to strut his general sexual deviance._

_“I happen to agree,” the qunari recorked the cream with a chuckle. He put the cream on the table as he moved closer to his mage. “But only because these patterns mark you as mine.” He moved his large hand up Dorian’s waist, his claws lightly scraping against the burns, making Dorian shutter. “No one else gets to see you the way I do, no one else gets to unravel you and reduce you to moans and blubbering.” He slowly moved himself closer and closer, finishing his sentence only as a whisper in his partner’s ear._

_The ‘Vint gasped at the weight and imagery of the silky words. “Mmm, you have no idea how much I want for this day to be over so I can come back here,” Dorian sighed as he started to get up._

_“Why wait for the fun to start?” The mage feels his wrists being pulled back into the bed, into the pale chest of the kossith.  
“Well, I happen to have a meeting with Fiona before lunch. As much as I would love to remain tied up and stuffed like a dinner poultry, I must decline.” The imagery proved by the mage left Bull laughing._

_“Well, what about a little play?” Bull whispered into Dorian’s ear, letting him perk up at the word. To most people, ‘play’ was an innocent word, an action to describe a child’s activities; to the Bull, it was a reference to more adult fun, and a rare and unusual experience that left Dorian’s knees weak, mouth watering for more._

_“I’m listening,” the human responded softly.  
Instead of talking, Bull rose from the bed, leaving Dorian among the tussled sheets. Bull moved over to his beat-up-looking dresser. Underneath the unkempt pile of leather and plates of amour was a small chest. This chest had always gotten Dorian curious, it was where Bull kept all the ropes and candles, but he promised himself to not rifle through Bull’s possessions, that’s just rude. The Bull shuffled a hand through the chest until he removed an object. He kept the object hidden as he closed the chest and moved back toward the bed, the object small enough to be consumed by a massive hand._

_“I know how you like to take time before coming here to prepare yourself.” Bull began his explanation before he sat back down, the bed creaking underneath his weight._

_“You take too long to prepare me, I understand it, but it takes too long. I feel like I could fall asleep by the time you have a second finge-“_

_“How about you stay prepared for me all day?” The Qunari grins as he unfolds his hand. He holds up a glass piece, it looks like a tiny wine glass at first glance, except then Dorian realizes what it really is. The glass piece is a stout cone shape, between two or three fingers wide. It has a short stem before that flares out into a wide base. The Vint has not seen such a glass object before, but he instantly knows its uses and implications._

_“All day?”_

_“From now until whenever I want to bend you over and replace it with my own cock.” The Qunari’s grin spread from pointed ear to pointed ear, “Only if you want to… If you don’t or it feels too uncomfortable and you need to remove it, that is your choice and I respect it.”_

_Dorian stared at the object for a few seconds; he considered his extensive schedule, an early meetings, discussing magic and training mages in Skyhold; he promised he would sit down for chess with Cullen, and goodness knows the Inquisitor was always hounding him for something before jumping off the balcony to bother Solas next. Despite what good logic would tell him, Dorian felt the thrill and challenge starting to stir in his belly; also a bit lower. “Consider me ready,” he states as he moves close to kiss The Iron Bull, who smirks._

_“Turn around and let me get you prepared,” Bull responded as he set the plug down onto the table beside the bed. As soon as Dorian was on his knees in front of him, the qunari moved close, spreading his golden cheeks to feel the soft flesh of his partner’s hole. He could feel it was still slightly loose from the previous evenings activities, and as Bull rubs and prodded, some left over seed leaked out, making The Bull grin. Dorian hissed as the man above him leaned in and gave one long lick. Bull proceeded to dig his tongue in slowly, enjoying the taste of his own spend still inside his lover’s body. He continued this, the mage moaning beneath him, as his hand moved to grab the vial of oil on the nightstand. He uncorked it and coated his fingers before he moved his tongue away, sparing the ‘Vint no time to breath before a finger was slid into his entrance. Dorian let out a gasp, hips shaking at the sensation, still mildly sensitive from the night before._

_It took no time for The Bull to insert another finger, carefully massaging and scissoring while avoiding Dorian’s sweet spot. Dorian was now fully erect, his hips trying to coax Bull’s fingers into the right place before Bull’s free hand was holding him down. Dorian whined as Bull snickered. With one last finger, Bull finally rubbed at the mage’s prostate, the latter man’s whining turned to a loud, heavy moan. Bull worked the area, his partner leaking, being thrown toward the edge until-_

_Dorian was quickly reduced to whining again as Bull pulled his fingers away. The copper skin on Dorian’s cheeks turned a vibrant red as he gasped for air, feeling his arousal at its peak, the denial of his orgasm heating up his body as he protested. “Bull,” he let out at an embarrassingly high pitch. He could feel Bull’s grin as the man worked oil on the bulb of the plug. When Dorian tried to sit up or move, Bull grabbed his waist and held him down_

_Dorian’s whines were finally rewarded when he felt a warm slick sensation prod at his hole. Thank the Maker that the Bull had taken that time to warm up the glass plug. Bull slowly worked the plug into Dorian, pushing in as he held Dorian’s cheek open._

_Dorian was a quivering mess by the time he became fully seated, the flare of the base against his taint. The plug was thick enough this its presence was incredible, but it was just short enough that it was just barely out of reach from his prostate._

_Bull helped Dorian up into a sitting position. The mage, still red in the face, rutted his hips into the bed, in attempt to strike that sweet spot, desperate to come. Bull grinned as Dorian let out a frustrated slew of Tevene. “You good?” Bull asked, and despite the previous curses, the ‘Vint nodded. “Good… Feel free to touch yourself to get off if you need to, though you should probably conserve your energy,” Bull said, getting up to move over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of pants to wear for the day._

_“Kaffas, did you just try to wink at me?” Dorian snapped as the qunari laughed. Dorian blushed madly as he snapped his thoughts back to his painfully hard erection. Bull was right, his hands were free, he could jack off, he had complete freedom for the day, but the damned bulb was not close enough to his prostate; if he got off on his own hand, he would feel no satisfaction. Before he could say or do anything more, Bull was out the door._

_Dorian resigned to getting dressed, ignoring the tightness in his pants, and hoping his hard on would disappear with time._

_It did not._

_\---_

Dorian preferred to stand when he addressed Fiona, discussing the need for control of training for the younger mages in Skyhold. When he reluctantly sat down for lunch, he was prodded by a nosey Varric about the ‘constipated’ look on his features. Concentrating on the board was quiet difficult while sitting on the glass bulb. “Are you okay Dorian? You seem to look a bit sick, I hope you aren’t catching cold,” Cullen asked, making Dorian flush even more with red. Though he did manage to converse with the Inquisitor, Solas, and Vivienne without any unusual talks, the look on Solas’ face was demeaning through their entire conversation; however, what else was new with the racist egghead?

Now the Dorian was drawn back to the time with the rays of the sun falling lower into the sky. He closed the book before him, resigning to his predicament as he looked out his window. He could see the Bull at the training dummies, practicing shield bashes with his lieutenant. Dorian watched the muscles moved under a sheen of sweat. The Altus licked his dry lips and watched, his dick coming back to life, uncomfortable in the tightness of his leather pants. He swore at his sense of fashion as he attempted to adjust himself, the plug rubbing against him in just the right way to make him even more tight and uncomfortable.

After a bit of fidgeting, he noticed Fiona glaring at him from the other side of the library. The ‘Vint felt the redness of his cheeks and decided the fresh—albeit cold—air would do him far better than the Grand Enchanter’s incredulous gaze.

He found himself walking toward the sparing ring as the sky started to turn gold and bronze. Bull backed away and looked over with a quick smirk before he turned back to Krem. “You’re done for the day, come back tomorrow when you can block an obvious attack.”

  
“Chief, you joining us tonight for a round?” Krem said as he dropped off the wooden sword and shield.

“Nah, tomorrow, I’ll make it up,” Bull grinned and waved Krem off. When the other ‘Vint was far enough away, Bull moved toward Dorian. Dorian could almost hear the man purring as he moved in. The hulking qunari started herding his mage out of the way against several stacks of crates.  “I’ve been thinking about you all day… You still wearing it?” Dorian nodded timidly, his flushed cheeks evidence of both his embarrassment and arousal. “It’s been intoxicating to think about you, walking around with that plug inside of you, bothering you, keeping you hot and ready for me, all day. How about we take this upstairs?” Dorian was melting at the gruffness of Bull’s voice, that voice that oozed with lust. Dorian made a bolt for it, making his way quickly to the stairs the battlements, as if he was racing The Iron Bull to his room.

The larger man laughed hotly as he followed the Altus up the stairs and to the door of the bedroom. Once Dorian was in, he only had enough of a sane mind to flick his wrist at the fireplace, the logs coming alive with flame before he heard the door lock click and felt a hot hand wrap around his gut. Dorian was tossed into the bed. Dorian huffed as he frantically fumbled at the straps and belts of his attire. Bull shrugged off his harness with a chuckle and watched Dorian work, licking his lips, his eyes doing the undressing for Dorian. The qunari took his time to slip out of his brace and boots, knowing it would take Dorian that amount of time to get out of all his clothes.

When the mage felt the bed dip, his chest was bare and his pants were down to his knees. He had no more time as he was unceremoniously flipped over and pulled up to his knees, pants thrown with only a mild tearing sound. Dorian felt the plug jiggled around inside of him as a hot hand investigated his hole. “Beautiful. You are perfect Dorian,” The Bull mused as he pressed and pulled lightly at the plug inside of Dorian. The latter gasps and moaned at the sensations, his erection as painfully hard as the last time, if not more so. Throughout the day he was constantly fluctuating between hard and soft, having no time or privacy to relieve himself. “At you ready for all of me, pretty?” he felt every word, hot against his ear, as Bull continued. “It may still sting a bit, I can prepare you more, if you need, or you can beg me to slam you into this bed and claim you as mine.”

At any other time, the undignified whimper that left Dorian’s throat would have left him mortified for a week, but right now, there was only one thing he could think about. “Oh Maker, please, take me.”

“You want the Maker to take you?” The kossith teased, his hand pressing on the bass of the plug.

“Fasta vass, Please!” Dorian gasped, “Fuck me, Bull, Please! I need you!” Dorian was only conscious enough to not scream, though he was loud.

With that, the plug was pulled from the mage. Before he could whine at the absence, he felt the blunt head of his partner’s cock press against his open hole. “Ita!” Dorian did not realize Bull spent that time teasing him to slick himself up, but it reduces him to only his native language as the large qunari cock slides into him. He feels a slight sting, but it’s overwhelmed by the sensation of being even fuller than before, the pressure in all the right places. “Place! Place!” He cried out in Tevene, “Requiro tu!”

The Bull did give the mage enough time to adjust with some slow, shallow thrusts, but they did not stay for long. Soon, the Altus was being pounded into the mattress, his cock rubbing against his belly, head sticky with an ample supply of precum. Dorian attempted to hide his face and cries into the sheets, but he felt the cock inside of him still before Dorian was carefully filled onto his back. He gasped as he stared up at The Iron Bull’s face. While the gaze of The Bull’s one eye was intense, Dorian could see the arousal and adoration, even though the tears of pleasure welling up in his own eyes. “Amatus,” the mage let out between moans as his partner resumed thrusting, his cock pushing against Dorian’s prostate. The smaller’s hands attempted to wind themselves into the sheets to lock him in place while Bull’s hands fell to the former’s hips, coaxing them into rhythm with his thrusts.

Dorian felt heat coil in his belly and attempted to unscrew a hand from cotton to move toward his untouched cock. The Iron Bull took the hand and pushed it back into the blankets as he leaned in closer, huffing hot breath into Dorian’s hair. The ‘Vint gasps and cried out in frustration, though it was quickly turned into more blubbering when The Bull slammed into his prostate. The word “Amatus,” slipped from Dorian’s lips several times as he felt closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me, Kadan,” Bull panted into Dorian’s ear, and suddenly the mage leaped from the edge, his vision going white as he came, his body spasming under the warmth of his lover’s touch. Bull rocked him through his orgasm, feeling Dorian’s body tighten and twitch around him, before he, too, came with a grunt and spilled into Dorian.

They remained in this position for a while, The Iron Bull not slouching or moving, as to not crush his Kadan while coming down from his high. Dorian never noticed the kossith pulling out slowly or pressing a cold, well cloth to his backside or belly. The ‘Vint only vaguely noticed when he was pulled into incredible warmth under the covers and wonderfully comfortable muscles of his partner’s arms.

“Mmm, that was good, Kadan,” the voice felt like it flowed through the entirety of Dorian’s body, its warmth and love grounding him but still making him feel like he was in paradise.

“That…” He wasn’t sure what to say, the glibness of his tongue escaping him. He reigned back in the snark one last time for the day, “If I had known this was what it’s like having a stick up your ass all day, I would have joined Cassandra and Solas sooner.”

The two men shared a long guffaw before they burrowed deeper into the warmth of the sheets, drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> So I have not written fanfiction in about 5 years, but I had a deep desire for the more kinky side of Iron Bull with the adoribull romance. Let Iron Bull's kinkster side shine bright!!! Also I unearthed my 3 years of Latin classes to bring you some simple Latin-turned-Tevene. I am pretty certain I still have a grasp on conjugations and imperatives.  
> "Ita"- Yes  
> "Place" - (Pla-keh) Please  
> "Requiro tu" - I need you  
> So enjoy some shameless smut that may have grammatical errors because its 2 am. (I may right more if people like this.)


End file.
